The characteristic unifying Mozart’s masterpieces in this double CD set is the sterling artistry of Valerie Tryon, partnered in the works for two and three pianos by Peter Donohoe and (a name new to me) Mishka Rushdie Momen.

This release concentrates on Mozart’s concertos for one, two and three pianists but one should not consider the works without orchestra as mere fillers - certainly not in these performances. As an aside, it may say something about the long-held current view of Mozart’s solo piano music that it is very rarely heard these days in public recitals – by no means as often as the music demands – but its expressive (and indeed structural) qualities are not such as should remain the province of specialists.

The four concertos form the larger part of the music in this set, and one must applaud the decision to include the Concerto for Three Pianos, which is at times disparaged by those who ought to know better. This concerto - on disc, at any rate – is often trotted out for familial (Menuhins) or ‘star-studded’ (Barenboim, Ashkenazy, T’Song; Eschenbach, Frantz, Helmut Schmidt) reasons. Mozart’s Concerto for Three Pianos may not be one of his greatest works, as ‘Mozart in F major’ implies for some people, but there is more within this music than is often revealed by performances which appear to regard the work as one Mozart wrote with his rubber-stamp outfit.

It is true that K242 was written quickly, and that the third solo part is easier to play than the others (as the circumstances of its commission virtually demanded), but such is Mozart’s genius, so wonderfully revealed in this performance, that we remain unaware of the subtleties lying behind the score, and when performed – as here – with spacious tempos and a genuine sense of ‘give-and-take’ between the soloists, the stature of this work is revealed as we rarely experience. This is an enthralling performance, the most purely musical account I have heard.

It may seem strange to begin my comments on arguably the least significant work here, but I do so to indicate the consistent interpretative quality of these artists, not least that of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, whose partnership is of a high order, the fine musicianship of Boris Brott adding to one’s heightened appreciation of what is, after all, a masterpiece.

The two-piano Concerto K365 is an even finer work of art than its three-pianos predecessor; it was written immediately following the sublime Sinfonia Concertante for violin and viola, and these concurrent double concertos show aspects of Mozart’s approach to the compositional problems inherent in concertos for multiple soloists. As in the three-piano Concerto, one sometimes hears this work rattled off by star soloists without too great a thought being given to the nature of the music itself. But not here. In this fine performance, Valerie Tryon and Peter Donohoe deliver an account of impressively consistent perception. The interpretative accord between Tryon and Donohoe is matched by the orchestral contribution, which is superb, the ‘give-and-take’ between the soloists, inherent in the medium, being as one.

In the solo concertos, of course Valerie Tryon comes ‘into her own’ in performances of outstanding musical insight and technically expressive command. The first movement of K466 is sturdy, but not such as to cover the natural underlying sense of foreboding – rather expressing the strength of an individual who is inherently troubled. Her first entry is one of inner strength, yet always intensely musical and sensitive in, as it were, facing up to facts rather than being overwhelmed by them, made more compelling by her profound ability to phrase beautifully at high speed – note particularly her shaping of the first movement cadenza.

This last comment may equally be applied to that in K 467. In this masterpiece, a very different work, of course, composed just a month later, which retains aspects of the deep seriousness of its predecessor, if perhaps more enigmatically expressed, Tryon gives a performance of equal interpretative stature. There are no mannerisms in her playing, permitting nothing – as often happens with less insightful soloists – to come between composer and listener. In the solo concertos, the RPO is under Jac van Steen, who directs with admirably coherent musicianship.

The two works without orchestra are also admirably performed; the Sonata is far more than a brilliant showpiece, its character full of profound and masterly insights – wholly displayed for us in this affectionate and vital reading. But the astonishing C minor Fantasia is an equally remarkable achievement - in Tryon’s hands, this rare music is given with total commitment. But, as Michael Quinn’s excellent booklet notes tell us, what we hear is not 100% Mozart, for his original 20-odd bars for violin and piano were extended to around 70 bars and completed after his death for solo piano by Maximilian Stadler. Tryon plays it in such compelling fashion that I don’t really care who composed what – it is an unknown masterpiece in her hands, fulfilling this double-album as a highly significant addition to great Mozart recordings.

Hastings International Piano Concerto Competition reached its climax on Saturday night with performances from the remaining three finalists. HOT correspondent Heidi de Winter was there to enjoy the denouement of another gripping contest. Photos by Bob Mazzer.

And the winner was…Roman Kosyakov. A Russian player, currently studying in Birmingham, won the 14th HIPCC and a cheque for £15,000 playing a Russian composition – Tchaikovsky’s Concerto No 1 – in the finals of this outstanding competition. He was also chosen by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to receive their prize of £500 for the competitor they most admired.

Roman Kosyakov in action.

We were initially treated to our second finals rendition of the Prokofiev No 3 – love it, hate it, I can’t make up my mind – masterfully played by the graceful Fanya Lin wearing her trademark waterfall black gown. The RPO, under the baton of Jac van Steen, were on top of their game, particularly the percussionist playing the castanets so accurately in this piece, as Fanya Lin flicked down the keyboard with syncopated staccato runs.

Then Rixiang Huang performed the Liszt Concerto No 1 to the near-capacity audience. This time the fearless RPO triangle had a starring role – extraordinary how one tiny percussion instrument can completely control the mood of a movement.

Bill Turnbull once again compered with utmost professionalism, mastering the complexities of the programme and calling the circle audience to order when they were late returning after the interval. There was an atmosphere of joy and awe in the White Rock Theatre and the people of Hastings blew away the sometimes stuffy demeanour of classical audiences. These touches are what will put “The Hastings” (as opposed to The Leeds) on the map.

Finally the dashing Roman Kosyakov – a tall man with a halo of curly hair – took the stage, producing a tone from the Yamaha piano fit to dominate a large orchestra. He was uncharacteristically inaccurate in the opening few bars and I think that relaxed him enough to let go and just enjoy himself.

Tentacles crossed

I once again sat next to the impressively educated Ditchling gentleman who had so confidently foreseen last year’s winner. I wondered if he was the pianistic version of Paul, the octopus who could apparently predict the football results. Unfortunately, his tentacles were crossed this year as he was way off the mark with his assessment.

Jac van Steen conducted both evenings with great skill and gave a fatherly hug to a couple of the male players when they had completed their performances. He knows the scores of these pieces inside out and held all the contestants in safe hands.

So it’s over for another year – the stand-out Hastings classical event for those of us who love the piano. The winner will be giving further local recitals this year, but every contestant is a worthy laureate, as Frank Wibaut, the artistic director, so wisely said in his speech.

Having appointed a new chief executive, Helen Winning, the competition is guaranteed to return in 2019. The Kowitz family foundation once again bankrolled much of the event. They are incredibly generous.

What could they improve? Not much. The attention to every detail of the competition – publicity, volunteers, host families, public pianos, rehearsal pianos, accompanists, repertoire, judges, prizes – all faultless. If there was one thing I would like to see next year, it would be a hydraulic piano stool to obviate all the fiddling around when the girls have to play after the boys.

The whole competition is pretty close to perfection. All we need is a capacity audience for every day of the event and we will have created a piece of heaven on earth. And that is down to the people of Hastings.

Don’t let the strange cover photo put you off (conductor looking into camera, soloist looking in a completely different direction). This is a valuable release and very well recorded (Ben Connellan in the Blackheath Concert Halls).

The Concerto by Francisco Mignone (1897-1986) – composed in 1958, though you’d never guess from its lyrical, tonal language – is given an authentic reading by Clélia Iruzun, a friend of the composer since childhood.

Her booklet note tells us his widow, Maria Josephina, learnt the work with him and that ‘during our recent meetings I played it for her and she gave me valuable advice’. This seems to be the only available recording of the piece, something I find rather surprising, for it might well be, as Iruzun avers, ‘the best piano concerto written by a Brazilian composer’.

It is certainly more enjoyable than any of those by Mignone’s more famous compatriot Villa-Lobos. You can hear in the course of its three movements echoes of Prokofiev, Rachmaninov and Ravel but also the playful exuberance and rhythmic vitality of South America. My guess is that this cracking performance will tempt many others to take it up.

Iruzun pairs it with Albéniz’s Piano Concerto, written quite early in his career (1887) and still relatively unknown. The composer of Iberia has yet to emerge with his unique voice but that does not mean the work is unattractive or poorly crafted. In fact, the reverse is true (you would, for instance, be hard of heart not to respond to the first movement’s second subject), and van Steen and Iruzun combine to give it its finest outing on disc since Felicja Blumental in the 1970s (both far preferable to the lacklustre Melani Mestre on Hyperion), though I am unsure why Somm lists the second movement simply as Andante when in the score it is clearly headed Reverie et Scherzo.

Iruzun ends the disc with two solo works apiece from each composer, well played but very much space fillers. I should have preferred another piano/orchestra work: there was room for Tavares’s riotous Concerto in Brazilian Forms.

Author: Jeremy Nicholas

Evening of concertos a triumph for Ulster orchestra

Dvorak’s Cello Concerto. Ulster Hall, Belfast

The Ulster Orchestra continued its successful season with a wide range of music in a jam-packed Ulster Hall on Friday night. It began with a glowing performance of Edward Elgar's elegant Introduction and Allegro under the direction of its ever-welcome principal guest conductor Jac van Steen, who always brings out a special sound from the strings.

There was a chilling contrast in the performance of Sibelius' Symphony No 4, though for the uninitiated the introduction in the concert programme listed it as the '7th'. This bleak, yet at times briefly lyrical work, was written during a crisis in the composer's life when he was suffering from throat cancer. Fortunately he recovered.

But his pain and fear are embedded in the work, which, technically, is one of his best, and van Steen and the ensemble gave a deeply thoughtful interpretation of this difficult piece. It is miraculous to think that it was the same composer who went on to write his evocative and powerful Fifth Symphony, his most popular masterpiece. The music of Anton Dvorak is also greatly popular because of its long stretches of musical sunshine, as well as the shadows.

Internationally-distinguished soloist Johannes Moser brought out all the sunshine, and a few shadows, in his superb performance of the composer's Cello Concerto. This, too, had its moments of sadness near the end for an unrequited love, but it finished in triumph. The soloist was rightly given a rapturous reception and he generously responded with an encore, the Sarabande from Suite No 1 by Bach.

Francisco Mignone (1897-1986) was a Brazilian composer of Italian extraction. (In later life he claimed his favorite composer was Puccini.) His reputation never reached the international level of that of his compatriot Villa-Lobos, though during his lifetime he was well known in his home country. He seems to be remembered now mostly for his solo piano music, which includes a number of Valses Brasileiras.

A complete disc of Mignone's piano music appeared in 2007 played by the pianist on this issue, Clélia Iruzun. She has also recorded his exuberant Fantastia Brasilerira No. 3 in its smaller version for piano and string orchestra; one of four works composed between 1929 and 1936 to bear that title. (There was also a compelling disc of Mignone's two string quartets, which I reviewed in Fanfare 36:1).

Mignone's large-scale three-movement Piano Concerto dates from later in his career, having been written in 1958. While Robert Matthew-Walker's informative note suggests this work retains a Brazilian folk-music influence, there is no denying it is something of a stylistic mix.

Much of the solo writing is reminiscent of Gershwin's Piano Concerto, and (like Gershwin) the composer is inclined to abruptly break into a big tune with Rachmaninov-inspired arpeggio piano accompaniment. The opening of the Allegretto marziale finale is a pure Prokofiev march––almost to the point of satire––although on the theme's return it is softened. In between big romantic statements are cheeky scherzando passages, piquantly orchestrated: the two extremes are heard within the first few minutes of the piece. As a whole, the concerto comes across as an extended divertissement and is great fun as long as you don't expect strict formal continuity or a strongly individual voice.

The Piano Concerto (or Concierto Fantástico) was Isaac Albéniz's major concert work of the 1880s. The composer played the solo in the work's Madrid premiere under Tomás Bretón in 1887. Just before embarking on this composition Albéniz had met Felipe Pedrell, a musicologist and teacher who had a great influence on him (also on Manuel de Falla), and who steered Albéniz towards writing in a distinctively Spanish style.

The three-movement Piano Concerto is still less overtly Spanish than the composer's late masterpiece Ibéria. As concertos of this period go, particularly those written by virtuoso pianists, its three movements are tightly knit and not overwhelmed by keyboard pyrotechnics. The orchestral writing, not Albéniz's strong point, seems perfectly adequate for its purpose and not in the least clumsy. Considering the 80 years that separate them, these two concertos have much in common, notably a lightness of touch and idiomatic writing for the solo instrument.

The performances are first rate. As I have indicated, the Brazilian pianist Clélia Iruzun is a specialist in this corner of the repertoire, and she displays both the sensitivity and the easy bravura required. Her thoughtful rubato saves the waltz theme in the first movement of the Albéniz concerto from tipping into banality. Van Steen's Royal Philharmonic is alert to unexpected mood changes in the Mignone and unobtrusively supportive in the Albéniz. Recording balance between the piano and orchestra is a model of how it should be done. As a bonus there are four solo tracks: two movements from the much better known Suite Espagnole of Albéniz, and two of Mignone's languid waltzes. To these Iruzun brings real charm.

This disc of what might have been mere curiosities is lifted to a higher level by the excellence of the performances. Phillip Scott

The composer Francisco Mignone (1897-1986) is little known outside his native Brazil where he was renowned as the “King of the Brazilian Waltz”. You can hear why in his two short solo works included here as a bonus, the first and fifth Valsa de Esquina from the set of twelve he composed between 1938-1943. They are immediately attractive and infectious pieces played with great élan by Clélia Iruzun for whom, as a schoolgirl in the 1970s, Mignone wrote solo piano works.

Mignone’s love of dance forms is apparent in his colourful piano concerto from 1958 where Iruzun is equally at home, with excellent support from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Jac van Steen. Their performance of Isaac Albeniz’s rhythmically snappy and vibrant Concierto Fantastico is equally persuasive. But in Iruzun’s hands Albeniz’s Granada and Sevilla (from Suite Espagnole) suggest that his and Mignone’s genius lay in the shorter solo forms.

Norman Stinchcombe

Translucent sounds: Vaughan Williams, Sibelius and Dvořák in Belfast

In a concert set to become one of the highlights of the Ulster Orchestra's season, young Dutch violinist Rosanne Philippens impressed with her bold tackling of Sibelius’ concerto. The Ulster Orchestra was on flying form, with a mesmerising rendition of Ralph Vaughan Williams' Fantasia on a theme by Thomas Tallis, superbly led by Principal Guest Conductor Jac van Steen.

Van Steen had set out to strip the Fantasia, a firm favourite among British audiences, of baggage accrued over more than a century of overbearing, indulgent performances. Instead, he sought to evoke a somewhat leaner sound, focussing on the work’s very essence, an interpretation paying respects to both the setting of its première in Gloucester Cathedral in 1910 and, crucially, the complex yet clarion hymnal writing of the Renaissance composer. The approach worked a treat. The orchestra’s string section, divided into three groups, played with a real sense of purpose, precision and the attentiveness. Here, with the Ulster Hall’s fine acoustics proving ideal for string sounds, the players marvelled from the piece’s serene beginning.

Van Steen allows the intricate layers of Tallis’ contrapuntal choral writing to shine through, its nuanced textures uncluttered. Recreating the spatial distance between players in the nave of the original cathedral setting by placing the ensemble of nine instruments behind the main body effectively suggested the echoes of antiphonal choral composition. The swifter tempo and transparent sound brought further benefits, facilitating contrast between ensemble playing and the string quartet’s “singing”, and rendering the expansive sounds of the vertical, organ-like chords at the piece’s climax towards the end all the more thrilling.

Next on the programme was the concerto with soloist Rosanne Philippens, substituting for Esther Yoo, who had withdrawn from the concert a few days earlier due to injury. Philippens made a strong case for her fearless approach to weighty repertoire in this performance. Sibelius' concerto famously ended in disaster at its Helsinki première in 1904, as the soloist was not up to its abundant technical challenges. With the 1905 revision, it quickly developed into one of the most treasured pieces for the violin, and remains one of the most demanding also. After its reticent, enigmatic opening, the Allegro moderato unfolded into its sweeping first theme. Philippens attacked the movement’s virtuosic cadenza with great panache, her playing positively unleashed throughout the breakneck runs awash with double stops and arpeggios. The absence of any safety net distinguished her interpretation and made this a joy to hear and watch. Only on a couple of occasions did her otherwise impeccable balance of control and abandon lapse, resulting in minor imprecisions.

The breathy octave scales were suitably eerie in Philippens’ rendition and her lyrical passages were poised throughout. The darkly lit beauty of the Adagio di molto could have done with a slightly restrained tempo to allow the soloist to develop her tone further and shape the movement’s long thematic lines. In the final movement (Allegro ma non tanto) Philippens played out her affinity for fiery tempi and dance rhythms. Urging the orchestra forward, she delighted in the energetic opening theme, her bowing rendering it rather more sprightly than melancholic. Her performance, which was followed by the Gavotte en rondeau from Bach’s Partita no. 3 (maybe dance was the alternative theme of the evening!), was received with enthusiastic applause.

For the concert’s second half, the Ulster Orchestra offered a convincing delivery of Dvořák's Seventh Symphony. While the playing was perfectly adequate, the orchestra could not quite replicate the excitement and verve of the first half. Jac van Steen’s decision to take the Scherzo at a much faster tempo than has become the standard performance practice made sense in theory, but the orchestra failed to completely translate this attack into the buoyancy demanded by the movement. The counter-rhythms of the Bohemian furiant dance were insufficiently pronounced as a result. Overall, however, this was a night to remember, with the audience at the packed Ulster Hall thoroughly enjoying itself.

By Judith Wiemers, 03 December 2017

Ulster Orchestra: Stand-in earns deserved ovation for superb Sibelius

Ulster Orchestra: Ulster Hall, Belfast

Imagine being asked to play the technically-demanding Sibelius Violin Concerto with the Ulster Orchestra at very short notice, and then taking to the stage at a packed Ulster Hall only a few days later.

Rosanne Phillipens, standing in for the indisposed Esther Yoo, rose to the occasion superbly on Friday evening and deservedly received a prolonged standing ovation.

She in turn was so impressed by the reception that she ended her debut in Belfast with a Bach encore. No doubt she will be invited to return.

Her performance of the Sibelius concerto on a Stradivarius, which was particularly impressive in the familiar final movement, was partly due to the well-judged accompaniment by the Ulster Orchestra under the direction of fellow Dutch national Jac van Steen, the principal guest conductor, who is always welcome in Belfast.

The success of the concert owed much to the imaginative planning, which showed off the orchestra's range to the fullest extent.

This included a sensitive interpretation of Ralph Vaughan Williams' spellbinding Fantasia On A Theme Of Thomas Tallis, which was based on a mid-16th century psalm tune by the composer.

The second half of the concert featured Antonin Dvorak's lively Symphony No 7 in D Minor, with van Steen leading the ensemble exuberantly through the well-known third movement, and the thrilling finale, to sustained and well deserved applause. The Ulster Orchestra is playing arguably better than at any time in its history, and the Friday concerts are drawing in highly appreciative crowds to the Ulster Hall.

As the orchestra continues its Christmas season with next weekend's performances of Handel's Messiah, it deserves its own best possible Christmas present with a guarantee of continued Government funding to maintain its excellent momentum.

By Alf McCreary - December 4 2017 - Belfast Telegraph

Jac van Steen's clear vision on Mahler's 9th Symphony

Jac van Steen surprised us very nicely and his precise idea of the interpretation of Mahler´s 9th Symphony brought the Prague Symphony Orchestra to good performance, based mainly on concentration and the output of individual players.

In the 2nd movement: Jac van Steen again did not rush with the tempo and in first theme of the movement he allowed to distinguish all sections of instruments separately. Generally, for me, it has been one of the best interpretations of this movement, I have ever heard.

Jac van Steen is not the type of conductor-extrovert, he does not accent himself.

His artistic CV is interesting enough, it is worth attention and respect, and it confirms that this close collaborator of the orchestra is relevant, and is an internationally acclaimed and respectctful personality….

….. In the same way he carefully mediates the message and the legacy of Mahler´s music – honestly, respectfully and all out, but never for effect, never obtrusive…

At the Wormsley Estate, I caught another opera about homicidal marital jealousy, Debussy’s altogether more restrained, chiaroscuro study of dysfunctional family life, Pelléas et Mélisande. It’s Garsington’s first production of this elusive, enigmatic masterpiece, and it wisely engaged the Philharmonia Orchestra, whose playing under Jac van Steen left nothing to be desired

Garsington Opera: Pelleas et Melisande

A very wet evening seemed quite appropriate for Debussy’s only opera, the downpour reflecting the decaying splendour of the palace within which the action unfolds in Michael Boyd’s lucid presentation. More than anything else it was the clarity of the text which impressed and the refusal to try to explain what Maeterlinck wished to remain mysterious. We were constantly challenged to try to understand relationships which were elusive and shifting before our eyes.

In this Paul Gay’s Golaud was masterly. His gruff exterior seemed to hide an emotional core which never quite makes sense of his situation, to the point where even the death of Pelleas and Melisande lay outside of his understanding.

Andrea Carroll’s Melisande is probably the most enigmatic I can recall, the voice radiant yet the character always distant and reserved. Even at the end we have very little understanding of who or what she is. If Jonathan McGovern’s heroically sung Pelleas is more straightforward, his emotional understanding is complex and his relationship to Melisande always tentative, even in their final scene.

Brian Bannatyne-Scott brings dignity to Arkel and William Davies’ Yniold is given much more to do than normal. His finding of the crown in the second act is convincing if sinister, and his dragging off of Melisande’s soaking dress, impressive.

In the pit, the Philharmonia Orchestra more than justify their new relationship with the company. The sound is glorious and the interludes in particular had a lucidity and body to them which radiated throughout the house. Jac van Steen’s approach to the score was equally fluid, with attention to detail and phrasing always impressive.

Pelleas is not an easy work, either to stage or for the audience. It does not seem an obvious summer festival choice, yet it was more than vindicated here. Let us hope that this new approach from Garsington is the start of a long and fruitful collaboration.

June 30, 2017

www.larkreviews.co.uk

The main musical satisfaction of Garsington’s new Pelléas et Mélisande was the intense playing of the Philharmonia Orchestra

The main musical satisfaction of the evening was the forthright, intense playing of the Philharmonia Orchestra, which will be making regular appearances at Wormsley, and was encouraged to give its utmost by Jac van Steen.

Handsomely conducted by Jac van Steen, the Philharmonia are making their Garsington debut. Their playing is glorious, though just occasionally, on the opening night, they threatened to engulf the singers at climactic moments.

But while Boyd’s characters freeze or stand helpless, the Philharmonia Orchestra under Jac van Steen leave us in no doubt about the brooding, sometimes raging passions they’re unable to express. This is a brilliant, uninhibited reading of Debussy’s not entirely restrained score. While Golaud gives a few cursory tugs at Mélisande’s hair after catching her in flagrante delictu with Pelléas on the balcony, the orchestra swirls and heaves his repressed violence; and while the lovers declare their passion at 20 paces in the penultimate scene, van Steen and co. itemise their true desires. The playing throughout is superb.

Garsington have just begun a five-year collaboration with the Philharmonia Orchestra and this was a fortuitous opera with which to open that partnership, for the players are fresh from their Aix-en-Provence performances of the work last summer. Under Jac van Steen’s baton the Philharmonic created exquisite soundscapes in the orchestral interludes and punctuated the vocal lines adroitly. Van Steen went for a less-is-more approach, and it worked well; he refrained from overt emotionalism and let the score speak, and there was a keen sense of unity and consistency between instrumental and vocal lines.

The details of Debussy’s music-painting were gorgeously crafted: the throbbing oboe that accompanies the dejected Golaud in the forest; the fateful chiming of the clarinet when Pelléas presses Mélisande to tell Golaud the truth about her lost ring, whose fall into the unreachable depths of the well is conjured by slithering harp glissandi; the tense, short crescendos for the lower strings, bassoon and timpani which depict the closing of the castle gates.

This season Garsington launches a collaboration with the Philharmonia Orchestra, which plays in the pit for the first time under Dutch conductor Jac van Steen. Their interpretation of Pelleas et Melisande conveys a wonderful range of tonal colours, while its dramatic flow is unstoppable. Rarely has this extraordinary score revealed such exquisite beauty and yet equally hit home with such devastating power.

This was the Philharmonia Orchestra's house debut in the pit, and under Jac van Steen's unfailingly sensitive and idiomatic baton it delivered a performance to match last year's Aix-en-Provence triumph with Esa-Pekka Salonen.

Beginning a new five-year association Garsington and allowing the company to increase the number of operas presented each summer, the Philharmonia Orchestra produced a luxuriant and multi-layered sound, and if conductor Jac van Steen’s tempi were sometimes on the languorous side, there was always the sense of forward impetus and of the music driving the story.

The production marks the launch of Garsington Opera’s collaboration with the Philharmonia Orchestra in which the ensemble will perform at one production in each of the festival’s forthcoming seasons. This was an auspicious beginning as, under Jac van Steen’s direction, Debussy’s music variously shimmered and shuddered as it unfolded the shifting emotional and psychological states of the characters. Indeed, although the orchestra’s sound was ideally recessed and soft-grained (with particularly subtle integration of the horns and brass) van Steen ensured the score remained alert and responsive – with a beating heart, as it were – and so acted as a vital dimension to the drama in seeming almost to reveal more about it than the characters themselves know. The music swelled and surged where it should, with Golaud’s murderous attack on the lovers rightly registering as the shattering climax (the performance reaching its only fortissimo here), but van Steen secured a seamless drawing away of the orchestral tone from the foreground after such high points, such that each scene was fluidly, organically structured. With the sea and water referenced several times in the work, the same seething and receding textures as are palpable in La Mer (composed shortly after the opera) were evident here.

Garsington Opera has secured a five-year partnership with the Philharmonia Orchestra, the first outing of which is this Pelléas. Under Jac van Steen, the Philharmonia musicians surpassed themselves in the beauties of Debussy’s score, explaining the truths that the characters avoid so successfully, and saturating the music with a sure French sensibility.

This production marks the beginning of Garsington Opera’s association with the Philharmonia Orchestra, and it gave a stunning account of itself under the baton of Jac van Steen, who is conducting Debussy’s only opera for the first time.

......With a uniformly excellent cast, a classy orchestra, terrific conductor and a glorious set, it seems strange to say this – but the great thing about this production was Michael Boyd’s direction.

As I attended only the second of the two concerts at the Smetana Hall of the Municipal House in Prague, on Thursday 27.4., featuring Mahler’s Symphony No. 3 in D minor, I’d like to think it was the better one of the two.

The Prague Symphony Orchestra FOK hosted Dutch guests – the mezzo-soprano Christianne Stotijn and conductor Jac van Steen – and both performances were held under the auspices of HE Mr. Eduard W. V. M. Hoeks, the Ambassador of the Kingdom of the Netherlands to the Czech Republic.

The symphony, known to be colossal and the longest opus in the standard repertoire, is not colossal in the sense of the sound power throughout the whole of the work; colossal is its length, despite the composer abandoning the idea of a seventh movement - a decision some of us welcome and some may regret.

Although the first movement, stretching over half an hour, points towards a long evening, the structuring of the subsequent musical flow brings so many remarkable moments and transformations that the almost two-hour-performance (including breaks) is not exhausting.

The opening movement, marked as Kräftig. Entschieden (Strong. Decisive) is filled with wind music - performed here in a remarkably faultless manner - starting with a powerful horn octet fanfare, a solid manly and reliable trombone entrance, an ostinato solo horn display and a theatrical

presentation of off-stage percussion instruments - in this case a temporary open space behind the stage.

The appealing reminiscences to brass band march-music were led by the conductor so as to correspond with the serious intentions of the composer, and the movement was further adorned with an excellent violin solo by the concert master Jiří Hurník, and the flutes. The relatively short second movement, Tempo di menuetto, with a lyrical oboe entrance, was set and led by Jac van Steen in a very mild manner and built like a serenade intermezzo with an engaging melody like that of a spa milieu.

The third movement is prescribed as Comodo. Scherzando (Comfortably. without rush). It begins with an enchanting pizzicato, carries on lightly and briskly until the whole orchestra is enraptured, and when it quietens down the post-horn melody - played by Marek Zvolánek on flugelhorn - is heard off stage.

Powerful, emotionally charged and beautiful music is 2 rippled by the sound of the trumpet that stirs up the orchestra towards a dynamic flowering, and after another melodic passage comes an orchestral thunder with a characteristic kettle-drums memento and an abrupt end. In this movement the conductor returned to the appealing orchestral sound of the first movement to conclude the instrumental part of the symphony before the arrival of the choral and solo vocal sections. The fourth movement, prescribed Misterioso (Very slowly, mysteriously) introduces a quasi shimmering scene as suggested by the title of Friedrich Nietzsche’s Midnight Song from Also sprach Zarathustra.

The mezzo-soprano Christianne Stotijn sang a brilliant solo, a sad desolate chant of pain in perfect harmony with the ‘night’ music; the deep emotional engagement with Mahler’s music was intensified by the violin solo performed by the concert master, and by the oboe and the horn section whose climb into a high-pitched lament added drama. The postscript belongs to the double-bass section followed by the soothingly pure children’s choir singing the excerpts from Des Knaben Wunderhorn, offering a strikingly contrasting mood.

In the choral text Es sungen drei Engel (There Were Three Angels Singing) – a song based on a folk hymn – the composer turns to an imitation of an early, even Renaissance musical melos, tastefully rendered by the entire vocal and instrumental apparatus on the stage. The final movement, hymnal and majestic, is led in a symphonically peaceful melody by the conductor’s composed gestures.

Individual instrumental sections, with their distinctive colours, stand out and withdraw from the unified flow of the orchestra; and in a prolonged, gradual dynamic climb the percussion begin to come forward only to recede into the background again just before the very end. The kettle-drums, first by individual and then repeated strokes, almost bring the whole movement to a stop, except for the solitary flute. Jac van Steen shaped the final five minutes as an effective purposeful gradation in which the kettle drums strike the last bars of the symphony.

The programme notes did not include a lot of information on the work’s genesis. Mahler originally provided each movement with a title, later abandoning the idea, realising that no words can express the contents of the music. He also didn’t want to distract audiences from the music itself. The last, the sixth movement, included as a motto a quote from German folk poetry: ‘Father, look at my wounds! Let no creature be lost!’

June 2017 - Rafael Brom

Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Beethoven 7th Symphony, March 2017:

………. Mr van Steen had to apply a reverse coaxing mechanism, where, rather than draw the passion out of the orchestra, he actively suppressed it, making those sad echo moments in the movement even softer than usual, creating a despairing exquisiteness to the whole thing. It was just sensational.

In many respects, the symphony is Beethoven’s Greatest Hits, with the brightness of the first movement, the playfulness of the third and the overwhelming victory of the final movement. The orchestra gave it a superb performance, and yes, excitable man in the Upper Circle Box, we all saw you on your feet conducting away to your heart’s content. We were blown away by the sheer vitality and force of the Royal Philharmonic’s performance. A great concert!

The principal guest conductor of the Ulster Orchestra, Jac van Steen, made a welcome return to the Ulster Hall on Friday with music by English composers.

Film buffs will have been aware of William Walton's iconic Suite from Henry V, written for Laurence Olivier's film of 1944 and popular ever since.

Under the baton of the vastly-experienced Van Steen, there was a haunting beauty in Egdon Heath, composed by Holst, better known for The Planets, and less so for his setting of the Christmas carol In The Deep Midwinter.

The Vaughan Williams' Concerto in A Minor for oboe and strings was played brilliantly by the young Spanish soloist Ramon Ortega Quero, who brought out the depth and wide-ranging beauty of the music, especially in the Minuet and Musette, and added an encore.

In his entertaining pre-concert talk, Van Steen said that players of British orchestras are so familiar with Elgar's Enigma Variations that they could play it standing on their heads, without rehearsing.

He also said that the real challenge for conductor, players and the audience is to take and experience this masterpiece beyond what we are familiar with. Van Steen managed to do this, right to the stupendous finale with the mighty Mulholland Organ in the Ulster Hall in full flow.

The long applause from the capacity audience was enthusiastic, and rightly so.

With Michael Barker-Caven's new production of Suor Angelica {Sister Angelica}, Opera North has cornpleted Puccini's trilogy of one-act operas, Il Trittico. Paired with the fïrst panel in this triptych, Il ïabarro {The cloak}, it makes for a bleakly powerful evening, unleavened by the only comedy in the group, Gianni Schicchi.

.... It is intentionally shocking, but it works......... Jac van Steen conducts

sensitively....

.... a haunting finale. Yan Steen is especially delicate with the chamber music textures, but holds back nothing at the close.

17 Oct 2016 Martin Dreyer The Press

As a double bill, strongly cast and presented as part of Opera North's autumn Season and conducted by Jac van Steen, they devastate.

Il tabarro (The cloak) arguably contains some of the composer's most poised and finely wrought music. At the opening, the orchestra's watery undulations conjure the night heat of the river bank. Borrowing from Debllssy's example, Puccini stamps his score with pentatonic chords, a desolate sound pierced with harsh, tugging, repetitive chords. The musical tools are subtle, the result an outpouring of anguish. Puccini is intent, here, not on expansive nnelody but atmosphere, mood. In Leeds, conductor and orchestra tackled this music with sparing intensity.

The Observer 9 October

A double bill of Puccini that compels and enthrals These wonderful singers give vent to some of Puccini's most lyrical outpourings Jac van Steen coaxes a glossy Puccinian Sound and luminous detail from the Orchestra of Opera North...

Opera North's pair of Puccini melodramas are no gloomy sob-fest - review Four Stars ! The experiment works well, not least because Jac van Steen conducts both with such delicacy, holding back on the blood and guts in favour of teasing out the refinements in Puccini's orchestration and allowing the subtleties of the characters' inner situatíons to communicate without storrns battering them from the pit. What could have been a relentlessly gloomy sob-fest turns out to have its own balanced ebb and flow, richly contrasting ín tone and atmosphere.

Jac van Steen's conducting implies the sour undertow beneath the shimmer of pious flutes and seraphic strings; even the depiction of golden light playing in the cloister fountain has no sooner been established than it appears to curdle. The sense of loss is palpable..

The orchestra, conducted by Jac van Steen, brought out wondefully what Puccini intended - a doom-laden atmosphere where terrible disasters are likely to loom out of the river's mists......

.....Puccini totally entrusted the scene setting to the orchestra, and with the much welcomed return of the Dutch conductor, Jac van Steen, the company's outstanding musicians perfectly captured every explicit detail.

Conductor Jac van Steen played a major role in bringing out the subtle orchestral textures of the mature Puccini. Above all the balance was perfegt, never drowning out the singers yet providing the power when needed. Pacing was perfect and this excellence continued with the next opera.

Seen & Heard Internatíonal

Double dose of drama

Opera North scores a hit with its robust new Puccini programme, says Richard Morrison

Opera Il tabarro / Suor Angelica

...... It's a gamble. Here, it pays offsplendidly forthree reasons: clear, unpretentious stage direction; two characterful casts; and a conductor, , ,, , who keeps the textures light and flexible while highlighting the orchestral wit in two of Puccini's most atmospheric scores.

The Tirnes

__________________________________________________

An emotional rollercoaster'

Violin Concerto World Premiere at BBC Proms

Royal Albert Hall, 27 July 2016

............ "Jac van Steen conducts excerpts from one of the most dramatic and colourfully scored of all ballets, Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, a highlight of the Proms series marking 400 years since the death of Shakespeare..........."

Hanna Nepil - Financial Times - 29 July 2016

......."The conductor Jac van Steen and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales contributed their own finesse to music of consequence and feeling.........."

Geoff Brown - The Times - 29 July 2016

......."Although Berkeley uses a large orchestra, he does so sparingly, and Van Steen’s precise direction ensured a mobile, luminous sound for a little over twenty minutes. Right quote............."

..........."Conductor Jac Van Steen paced the prelude very cleverly so that its ecstatic quality shone through, without losing the character of an introduction to something even bigger, the Liebestod............ "

..........."In fact, these were no less riveting, which was thanks to Jac van Steen’s careful work in getting balances and speeds just right............"

Jac van Steen with the Philharmonia Orchestra and Esa-Pekka Salonen in Japan, this latest fixture of The City of Light: Paris 1900-1950 series was passed to the Royal College of Music.

Its Symphony Orchestra opened the concert with a very belated premiere, the Marche gaie by the short-lived Lili Boulanger (1893-1918, the younger sister of Nadia), who succumbed aged 24 to what we now know as Crohn’s Disease.

Marche gaie, seemingly a wedding piece, was listed by her in 1916 but without any sight of it at the time. The hand-written short-score was found only in 2011. It has been stylishly orchestrated for chamber forces by Robert Orledge. Of the few works that Lili left us, Marche gaie doesn’t quite fit, but it is an attractive piece of pastiche, somewhat skittish and owing something to Chabrier. Jac van Steen and the RCMSO gave it a lively birth.

Charles Koechlin (1867-1950) worked on his 16-section piano cycle, Les Heures persanes, between 1913 and 1919, orchestrating it in 1921. Four of the movements were here receiving their UK premieres! Impressionistic, exotic, sultry and shadowy, maybe each piece is stronger in colour and atmosphere than in ideas, although certainly capable of transporting the listener to celestial Arabian locales and times of day. That said, the sun-drenched streets, with much activity, relies on ‘harder’ scoring, and does so cueing comparisons with Roussel. These selections passed 15 minutes very pleasurably, evocative and vibrant music, and also intricate, requiring a deft and sensitive response, duly received.

For the familiar Second Suite from Daphnis and Chloe, a rather large RCM Chorus joined in, as per the complete ballet score, wordless of course, if just a little over-balanced at times although more successful in the hedonistic closing bacchanal. Van Steen kept the music on the move, integration his watchword, the music speaking for itself if a little coolly, not far off Ansermet in terms of wholeness and choreographic complementariness (and that’s big praise). If the frenetic ending was more Lucozade than liqueur, the musicians had the measure of the complex rhythms; and, earlier, the ‘dawn chorus’ of onomatopoeia had been skilfully negotiated and Stephanie Vici’s flute solo was suitably seductive.

It was bassoonist Catriona McDermid who with poised expression led-off The Rite of Spring, which gave both the work and Stravinsky fame and infamy at its Paris premiere in 1913. Some loose ends aside, this was a really impressive performance – for Jac van Steen’s interpretation and the students’ committed, enthusiastic and talented response. As he had for Daphnis, Van Steen saw the work whole, and it enjoyed a sense of organic growth and well-timed inevitability. It was played not as a showpiece but as music deeply-rooted in folklore, Van Steen’s conception weightier and more ritualistic than what is now the norm, RCM guns blazing but also very responsive to the eeriness that begins Part 2. In an account that really danced, and thrilled, the final ‘Sacrificial Dance’ was unerringly arrived at – through upheaval and then delirium.

Leeds Town Hall is a magnificent venue. Its richly decorated grand interior, with improving sayings of Victorian moral earnestness emblazoned on the upper reaches of the walls, has the audience looking towards the mighty organ pipes, resplendently painted white with colourful detail.

With the orchestra in place, centrally at the apex above her colleagues, framed by the organ and surrounded by her glistening instruments, presided timpanist Elsa Bradley like some lone Wagnerian Norn or Gothic princess, underpinning the climatic moments with her celestial thunder.

Before this imposing backdrop the orchestra conjured the presence, as though descending from heaven, of the golden knight, Lohengrin. Once the late-comers had done with their stumbling and grunting, the magic of the music wove its spell, and Jac van Steen showed himself to be the master of dramatic pacing, the arch of the Prelude beautifully shaped, enabling the climactic moment of revelation to blaze out in all its ecstatic glory. The strings were crystal clear, the woodwind well-blended and secure, and the brass resplendent.

It was then as if Lohengrin's swan had headed off to the Finnish realm of the dead, Tuonela, where things turned very dark indeed. After a preparatory abrupt, sombre rumination from the low strings there is a cello solo, the first of several in the Fourth Symphony, and Jessica Burroughs’ controlled but deeply expressive presentation of the theme was spellbinding, as she was in all her solos, fitting perfectly with van Steen's slow, sonorous and eloquent way with this work. This wasn't the thin-sounding, astringent, icy interpretation that some ensembles aspire to for Sibelius, especially in this symphony; the Opera North orchestra in this venue achieve a wonderfully full, rounded late-Romantic sound, and it made for a very powerful performance indeed.

I have heard lighter, brighter, more urgent performances of the second movement, but this was not what van Steen and his orchestra were after, but rather a somewhat softer melancholy dance that led naturally to the slow movement where the glories of this orchestra were on full display, the intermingling and interchange of woodwind, brass and strings so beautifully accomplished. Maestro van Steen's ability to shape the structure so that the slow uncovering of the overwhelming string theme that crowns the movement, only to be downed by, as Andrew Fairley's excellent programme note would have it, ''malevolent brass'', was displayed to shattering effect. The brass, malevolent or not, were magnificent.

Come the finale we are dealing with the strangest of music, some of which Sibelius may have originally composed for a projected tone poem from the Gothic narrative of Edgar Alan Poe, Lohengrin's swan apparently now transmogrified into The Raven. The movement stutters enigmatically to an uncompromising end where screeching flutes call desperately upwards, in vain – ''Nevermore'' quoth the oboe, repeatedly. It was wonderfully characterised woodwind playing of great dramatic presence. A few repeated desolate A minor chords and the music just stops. A tremendous performance, the orchestra responding eloquently to van Steen’s inspired conception.

During the interval we have to surmise that the raven metamorphosed into the mysterious man in black who, no less the stuff of legend than Lohengrin, commissioned the Mozart Requiem – though this was perhaps one metamorphosis too far: this was very definitely, as the football commentator might have it, a programme “of two halves”. The orchestra was diminished by a few desks and a measure of vibrato, and maybe because of the contrast with what had gone before, the opening of the Requiem sounded rather jaunty, with little of the sombre unease one might expect. And to begin with the choir sounded awfully far away, way back above and behind the orchestra, and lacking in focus and rhythmic security, the higher voices failing to cut through.

However, with the Kyrie fugue, things improved immensely, and indeed all five fugues (plus two repeated) in this edition of the Requiem were excellently done, exciting, energetic and serving well to establish the structural framework of the piece. Especially noteworthy is the Amen fugue, which Dr. Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs has elaborated very successfully from sketches of Mozart that Sußmayr had ignored, (Sußmayr providing instead his own grand but rather unambitious Amen). This new edition also spices the orchestration with an increased but thoroughly Baroque use of trumpets and drums: it helps to maintain the dramatic colour and vitality of the work through to the end. Dr Cohrs has extended the final cadence and provided an unambiguous major chord, that the bereaved might be in receipt of some solace come the close. The two Opera North concerts, of which this was the second, constitute the edition’s UK première.

Bass Matthew Brook matched the 'wondrous sound' of Blair Sinclair's trombone in the Tuba mirum, calling us to the resurrection and the last judgement, his colleagues expanding on the awful process, and all four soloists sounded especially fine in the Recordare, pleading for “a place among the sheep”. I had the feeling that the performance improved and became more fluent as it progressed, the Offertorium coming off particularly well.

I confess I was assailed by the thought that in this great bombastic Victorian hall, as a follow-up to Wagner and Sibelius, both venue and context made irresistible the unforgiveable sin of longing for a mighty and sombre Romantic performance of the Requiem, with slower tempi and larger forces. Nevertheless, it was an intriguing and thoroughly enjoyable concert.

Ken Ward - Bachtrack - 27 October 2014

The Brahmsian orchestra at its best: Philharmonia Brahms cycle continues with van Steen

....."With an orchestra as marvellous as the Philharmonia, there is really precious little that can go wrong, even more so under the watchful eye of Jac van Steen, standing in for Andris Nelsons. Van Steen, reserved but authoritative in gesture, beamed for most of the concert, and an immaculately detailed – never clinical – sound from the orchestra reflected the loving care with which he approached some of Brahms’ most appealing music......"

....."From the opening van Steen’s masterly control was obvious. With an incredibly clear, balanced texture, graceful, rich, but never over-loud, Luke Whitehead’s contrabassoon was allowed just a sliver more presence in the tone; not enough to be inelegant, but rounding out the bass with its distinctive colour. This sort of micro-management was characteristic of van Steen’s interpretation, balancing fairly brisk and uncompromising tempi with eloquent manipulation of detail, without ever losing sight of the character in question, be it whirling gaiety as in Variation 5 or Baroque grace in Variation 7....."

....."From soaring, ecstatic ascents to shadowy whispering, everything was inch-perfect and though they clearly loved the sound they made, van Steen never let it obscure interest in other sections, or vice versa. ....."

....."Van Steen’s control of the orchestra slipped somewhat for the Third Symphony, as a few ensemble lapses clearly showed, particularly between the horns and the rest of the orchestra. This never prevented the character of the music coming through, though, and the Dutch conductor’s interpretation was one that emphasised character above all else, as well as showing a clear respect for Brahms’ masterly construction. ....."

With a last-minute change of conductor from the excitable Andris Nelsons to the more reserved Jac van Steen, one might have forgiven a not exactly revolutionary performance. Last night’s concert was meant to be the first half of Nelsons’ Brahms cycle with the Philharmonia in the Sheldonian Theatre, part of Music at Oxford’s series, but illness unfortunately prevented him from performing. Van Steen’s lack of preparation meant it was going to be a big task to offer any new interpretations of these orchestral staples as well as preventing an all-Brahms programme from becoming uniform. However, after some reassurance from the Philharmonia, it was not going to be allowed to a problem.

Before diving full-pelt into the symphonies, the evening began with the lighter St Anthony Variations, or Variations on a Theme by Haydn. The winds were certainly not caught unawares as they opened the concert with an astonishingly warm sound, getting their intonation right immediately. With the large number of repeats written in, the variations threatened to drag.

But van Steen forbade any monotony. Through his expert sense of phrasing and by bringing out hidden voices, he ensured continued interest. Despite Brahms’ limited orchestral palate (especially in comparison to some of his contemporaries, such as Liszt and Wagner), van Steen produced a kaleidoscope of orchestral colours.

Yet the Philharmonia must be equally commended. Van Steen’s conducting during the variations was understated – wearing tails certainly did not impinge on his movement. It was as if being called in at the last minute meant that he did not entirely trust the orchestra, since he gave them every single beat. Nevertheless, the violins swirled feverishly in the fourth variation, growing through crescendos and pulling their audience into their sumptuousness. While their playing was doubtlessly expressive, the violins’ staccato lines in the second variation might have been articulated better. The finale somehow opened in a subtly grand manner, which was the ideal place to grow from. From here, the eventual development into a rich, full-orchestral sound made the entrance of the triangle (the only piece of percussion in the whole concert other than timpani) well deserved.

The following Third Symphony might be characterised as a symphony of anticlimaxes. All the movements end quietly, and its build-ups seem to die down too quickly. Van Steen took full advantage of its dramatic potential: rising to fiery climaxes, and then shamelessly taking them away, refusing to give away too much too early on. Meanwhile, the strings continued to reveal the many characters they are capable of: from the ferocious and bold, to the sweet or delicate. The central section of the first movement is one of the few places where the violas are allowed to shine – and boy did they relish it. Hearing their dark, resonant voices coming through from the middle of the orchestra was a delight. By the finale it was clear that van Steen felt more comfortable conducting this orchestra. The energy he mustered, helped by the magnificent brass and the new colour they offered, was so astounding that it felt like it could never stop. Yet after all of the momentum generated, the symphony’s close was disappointing. Although it was quiet, it could have been drawn out for longer. But for a symphony of anticlimaxes, this might have been van Steen’s (and Brahms’) point.

That Brahms’ First Symphony was nicknamed “Beethoven’s Tenth” seems bizarre, as to me the work reveals Brahms as a full-blown romantic. During the first movement, the Philharmonia brought out the darker side of its minor key, a darkness that Beethoven only sometimes hinted at. The slow second movement, with its tentative and longing string playing, was oddly reminiscent of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde prelude. It was a new aspect of Brahms that came as a surprise.

By the finale, van Steen was openly enjoying conducting such a responsive orchestra. The concentration in both players and conductor during the pizzicato build-ups translated to a huge amount of concentration from the audience. Finally, van Steen let go of his restraint, entrusting the Philharmonia with the reins when the moment was right. Any disappointment at the close of the Third was now forgotten. Starting with rumbling timpani and some of the most satisfying brass playing that I have heard, van Steen and the Philharmonia brought it to a gloriously and overwhelmingly loud close.

Although the Philharmonia will return with a different conductor to complete the cycle in January, if their playing is anything like last’s night it is certain to be a success. Whoever their conductor is, the Philharmonia are an orchestra working together. But they are not a machine-like single entity, which van Steen went to great lengths to prove. It made for an exciting concert that presented new ways of hearing these staples of the repertoire. Nelsons certainly has a difficult act to follow.